Bad-Boys: Watcha Gonna Do When They Come For You?

Surely it must be cliché that all fathers are protective of their daughters, especially when said daughters reach dating age. No paramour is good enough for your girl; no man is man enough, etc. etc.

And so it is with my Rose…no, no, not the flower, but Rose. Rose Mallow.

No father in his right mind would admit this publicly, but as I’m an unconventional guy in some respects, I'll do it. Okay, so here it goes: Rose is an attractive, even seductive gal. Sure, I’ve previously written about her, especially her taste in ‘clothes’. Though she usually dons a stunning burgundy colored gown, the summer heat compelled her to swap that out for more appropriate attire: a summer dress of a particularly attractive shade of lime green, accented by burgundy stockings. Even despite her clothes, Rose Mallow offers an intense, sharp appearance: her deeply lobed, palmated leaves extend from her slender legs, hands outstretched beckoning you to enjoy the summer breeze with her.

Lately I’ve noticed that Rose is attracting certain neighborhood thugs: Japanese beetles. Sure, they are attractive in their own right, and I can see what Rose sees in them: their copper-colored elytra and green thorax, accentuated by a glossy sheen that, when the light hits their body just so, makes them seem other-worldly, a masculine ruggedness encased in ethereal beauty. (Goodness, I feel an interlocutor in Plato’s Symposium just writing about this.) Almost love at first sight…Except when I stomp on them and smear their innards across the stone walkway—then, well, they are not so attractive.

As with most thugs, their initial bad-boy charm quickly erodes. Beauty compels us to do things we otherwise wouldn’t do, and so certain of our daughters—Rose Mallow and the "ordinary" roses, climbing hydrangeas and crepe myrtles, in short, the most lady like in the plant kingdom—allow these boys to engage in some rather enticing foreplay—little bites here and there. Oh, how titillating! At first this doesn’t bother, but then the bites become more extensive, and these paramours invite others to partake in what soon becomes an orgy. The gang takes advantage of her generosity, and soon our daughters are encased in beetles, their leaves rapidly becoming skeletal reminders of the dangers of seduction.

So let this be a warning, folks, of the dangers of bad-boys—especially those in gangs. If you see one, destroy him, because one attracts the others. And don’t buy those ridiculous pheromone traps, which have been proven to attract more than they trap and kill. Also, while many encourage you to shake your daughters’ branches and let the beetles drop into soapy water (yes, there is something tragically wonderful about watching these things drown), I find that several are smarmy enough to fly away.

My advice: be ruthless and grab those buggers by your hands, throw them to the ground, and quickly stomp. It’s much more effective.

So, bad boys, watcha gonna do when I come for you?!

Die, that’s what.